In Which Eeyore Goes to Azkaban
by Convenient Alias
Summary: Eeyore, unregistered animagus, is sent to Azkaban for his crimes. Here he meets another unregistered animagus named Sirius Black. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Winnie the Pooh.**

**AN: So late one night, I was thinking, "What if someone enjoyed being depressed too much for dementors to affect them?" Being as it was late at night, instead of thinking, "What if Sirius was really depressed?" or something like that, I thought, "What if Eeyore went to Azkaban?" When I woke up the next morning, the story was still in my head. So I wrote it.**

"So, Mr. Eeyore, what do you have to say for yourself?"

The man sitting in the accused podium blinked. "You want me to speak? You were doing just fine without me. Are you sure it isn't someone else you want to speak? I'm not a very good speaker, you know."

The judge glared at him halfheartedly. "You have been accused of the following crimes: First, of being an unregistered animagus," he paused, waiting for it to be denied. When Eeyore ignored him, he continued. "-Second, of performing magic in front of Muggles. Making a shield to repel rain and riding a broom about town in broad daylight. I don't suppose you have an excuse."

Eeyore groaned. "I was tired. Doesn't anyone have the least bit of sympathy for that?" When no one answered, he slumped deeper into his chair.

Eeyore would have been a tall man if it weren't for his constant indifferent slouch. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray-strange because he wasn't that old, and wizards age slowly anyways. He shouldn't have had graying hair for at least another twenty years. His face was free of lines, but it always looked a little grotesque due to his miserable expression. A droopy mustache, bushy eyebrows, and worn gray robes added to the effect.

It was said that the Ministry had been looking for him for ages. He hadn't been exactly careful to avoid attention. The two instances the judge mentioned were hardly the only times he had done magic in front of Muggles. And he had turned into a donkey so many times in front of fellow wizards that most had assumed he was registered as an animagus. When they had checked in the books and found him missing, they had been on his tail immediately. But then he had disappeared for five whole years. Until now, no wizard had reported seeing hide or hair of him. Still, they had heard rumors…

The judge sighed slowly, shaking his head. "All in all, these offenses would normally add up to twenty years in Azkaban. Unless, of course, you would care to tell us about where you have been these five years." He looked up, and tried to meet Eeyore's eyes. But the man merely repositioned himself in his chair.

"Does that matter? You're only going to send me to Azkaban anyways. I know I probably deserve it too."

"The Ministry has heard that you were hiding out with several other animagi," the judge said. "Including several we've been trying to arrest for years. If you tell us where these other criminals are, where you've been hiding and who with, your sentence could be lightened considerably." He smiled drily. "Why, you might even get out while your mind is still intact."

"I've been hiding…deep in the Hundred Acre Wood, where Christopher Robin plays," Eeyore said. He paused, and then continued. "You'll find the enchanted neighborhood, of Christopher's childhood days."

"Enough of this nonsense," the judge cut in sharply. "Where is this…Hundred Acre Wood?"

Eeyore shrugged. "I don't know."

"Then how did you get there?"

"Oh, the usual way. Christopher Robin brought me."

"Aha!" said the judge. "Now we are getting somewhere. Who is Christopher Robin?"

"A boy. A very clever one. Unlike some I could mention," said Eeyore, staring off into the distance.

The judge, unsure whether he should be offended or not, persisted. "What is his last name? Where does he live? Who are his cohorts? Why did he bring you to this place? Where is he now?"

Eeyore moaned, "I don't know. I don't keep track of these things. I'm sorry to be such a disappointing creature. It's in my nature."

The judge's mouth tightened. "Very well then. Since you refuse to answer questioning, your sentence will stand. This hearing is now over."

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Sirius Black propped himself against the wall of his cell. Usually he would be a dog right now, but he heard guards' footsteps approaching and he didn't want to be caught out of human form. It was a pity, though; the dementors were already getting on his nerves.

The footsteps were quite strange. They sounded almost like, instead of walking down, the Aurors were riding a horse, except a bit softer.

Then the Aurors turned into the hall in front of his cell, and Sirius became quite certain he was officially mad. Too bad, he'd been able to resist the urge to insanity for years, but the struggle was finally over.

Instead of a prisoner, a grey donkey was walking between the two guards.

One Auror, with a warning look at Sirius, opened the door to his cell. The other one shoved the donkey inside. It didn't seem to mind very much. It walked in a few steps, then lay down on the floor with a yawn that showed huge flat teeth.

The first Auror slammed the barred door closed and was locking it. Sirius stood up shakily. He had to know. "Is-is that a donkey?"

The Auror looked at him questioningly. "Of course it is," he said. "What did you think it was, a giraffe?"

Ah. So it was just the Ministry of Magic that had gone mad. Of course, in Sirius's opinion, they had always been mad in the first place, so that was not nearly as troubling. He sank down to the stony floor with a groan.

"Hello," said the donkey. "I can tell already that we're going to be friends. Well, perhaps not. You never can be quite certain. But I know that Groan. It's the one that says the world is against you. I share your pain."

Sirius glanced at the donkey. "Wait a second. Did you just talk?"

The donkey looked up at him mournfully. "Yes. But I'm not offended if you weren't listening. That's the thing about being a donkey. People don't think you have anything important to say. Not that anything I have to say is that important anyways, if you were listening. So it would be pointless. Go back to staring at the wall, or the floor, or whatever you find more interesting than talking to me."

By now Sirius was sitting bolt upright. "Who…or what….are you?"

"I'm just Eeyore. No one important. You can forget my name if you want. You probably will anyways; it's not very memorable."

Sirius definitely wanted to know more than that, but common courtesy obliged him to introduce himself. "I'm Sirius Black."

The donkey flinched slightly. When he spoke, his voice shook a little. "Not surprising at all. Of course they would put me in a cell with a dangerous serial killer who might murder me in my sleep. It's just like them."

"Wait, are you talking about me?"

The donkey looked sideways at him. "Do you see anyone else here?"

Sirius looked around. Seeing no one but Eeyore, he said, "I'm innocent, so don't worry. You're safe from me at least."

"That's what they all say, you know," said Eeyore. "But I might as well believe you, got nothing else to do."

"So…are you really a talking donkey?" Sirius had never known such creatures existed. Although come to think of it, he was fairly sure one was mentioned in a certain Muggle fairy tale he'd once read and Muggle fairy tales were often suspiciously close to reality.

"Sometimes. And sometimes I'm a man. Not that it really makes a difference."

Sirius's world was slowly righting itself. "Oh," he said. "So you're an animagus. But how can you speak while in donkey form?"

Eeyore tried to shrug expressively, but that doesn't really work for a donkey. So instead he said, "Don't know. Just can."

"Ah," said Sirius, "Then I don't suppose you could teach me how."

"You're an animagus?"

Sirius turned into a dog and back for an answer. Eeyore looked him over approvingly.

"Nice other form. But I'm afraid I learned from Christopher Robin. He's the only one who can teach you how, you know. Sorry to disappoint."

Sirius, who really was disappointed, sat gloomily in one corner. Eeyore settled himself in the other. For a long time they just stared gloomily at each other, the floor, the ceiling, the walls, and the barred door.

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Eventually, dinner arrived. Bread and water via Auror guards. Sirius ate slowly, watching Eeyore. Eeyore was looking at his food skeptically.

"The least they could have done is provided some good thistles. But no, nobody cares…"

"We're in Azkaban. Their job is to make us miserable," Sirius pointed out.

The donkey nodded. "Too true, too true. Well, I can't eat this as a donkey, so I suppose I'll just have to transform." He morphed into a man in the time it took Sirius to blink. "So tiring," he moaned as he picked up his bread.

At last he turned back to Sirius. "Now, I know that talking can make people irritable, and particularly talking to me, or just me in general, but I think, since I'm going to be stuck with each other for the next twenty years, we should get to know each other."

"Twenty years? Lucky you, I'm in for life. But at least I'm innocent. Someone could find that out and I could be freed ahead of time," Sirius said hopefully.

Eeyore smiled slightly. On him, it looked like a grimace. "I doubt that."

Sirius glared at him and returned to eating.

Eeyore was soon done, and turned back into a donkey. He stared at Sirius. Sirius lasted about ten minutes before yelling, "Why are you looking at me?"

"I'm waiting for you to tell about yourself," Eeyore explained in a patient voice. "I asked you to earlier. And people like to talk about themselves."

Sirius technically hadn't refused to talk about it. And he hadn't talked to anyone except the guards in a long time. So he said, "Where should I start? I didn't commit the murder I was put in here for. Peter framed me." He nearly snarled the last part. Azkaban did not take away resentment and hatred, and Sirius had a lot of hatred stored up.

"Pardon me," said Eeyore. "I'm very sorry to interrupt; it's so stupid of me, but who is Peter?"

"Peter was an old friend of mine. Not so much a friend anymore," he added darkly. It was hard to explain. And once again he wondered where to begin.

"Hm. Start when you were a kid. That's when all the good stories start," Eeyore suggested.

So Sirius talked about his childhood, the pressure to be a proper Black, his parents, Regulus, and finally going to Hogwarts. He talked about meeting James on the train and he paused.

"He's dead now. It's my fault-"

"Tell the story in order," Eeyore objected, seemingly unmoved by Sirius's grief.

So Sirius continued. He talked about how he'd met Lupin and eventually Pettigrew, and how the four of them had hung out together, pulling pranks and having fun.

"And sometimes bothering Severus Snape."

"Who's Snape?"

"He was a git. We pulled a lot of pranks on him. Cursed and hexed him in the hallways."

Eeyore shook his head. "It's not nice, ganging up on someone like that. You could hurt someone's feelings. It's happened to me before," he said glumly.

"I'm…sorry? Anyways, that was all a long time ago when I was a kid." Sirius continued, talking about the rise of Voldemort and James' making Peter his Secret Keeper, and the disastrous results. It felt good to finally tell someone the truth: Back when it had happened, it had been so chaotic he had never even gotten a trial.

"So," said Eeyore when he finished. "You need to use your animal form to stay sane, hm?"

"Otherwise the sad and terrible thoughts drive me crazy."

"It's not so bad being depressed you know. At least you hardly ever get disappointed. Hardly ever," Eeyore said, because sometimes he'd been disappointed anyways. Like when his birthday balloon was popped. He had thought for a moment he'd been about to get a real, big, birthday balloon. But that had turned out all right, and how much more could one expect?

Sirius snorted. "You're one of the gloomiest people I've ever met. I prefer to stay upbeat, thank you very much."

"You sound grouchy to me. No offense or anything."

"Like I said. Dementor influence. You'll start feeling it soon, too." Well actually, his grouchiness had much to do with Eeyore being so…depressing. Azkaban was depressing enough without help.

Eeyore groaned, "No doubt. No doubt."

There was a pause. Then Sirius asked, "So, what about you?"

"Hm?"

"Tell me about yourself."

Eeyore twitched. "Well I'm quite a boring person really. No need to talk about me."

"I told you about me," Sirius argued. "So talk. It's only fair."

"Well, if you insist," Eeyore sighed. And he plunged into the story.

Eeyore had been a Muggleborn and had not heard of the wizarding world until he was called to Hogwarts. Before then he had only done small magic, like making thistles grow bigger and turn more purple, or turning his toys blue. Once he had created a rain cloud that followed him around for weeks whenever he was outside. He hadn't caught a cold but he said it was a "very Wet experience. I don't like being wet." Which made Sirius wonder why the rain cloud had formed in the first place. Usually accidental magic follows a child's desires or moods.

At Hogwarts, Eeyore had been put in Hufflepuff, where he'd been something of a pariah because he wasn't a hard worker. Or at least, the Hufflepuffs had thought so-until they saw his class projects, which were about twice as long as anyone else's. He'd explained to them that he'd been working on them during all his free time because he had "nothing else to do. I mean honestly, this school is pretty boring. I can't even find any thistles…"

And so Eeyore had been practically worshipped by Hufflepuffs during his years at Hogwarts. But he hadn't talked very much, so it was worship in the sense of everyone knowing who he was and respecting him, but not really associating with him. It made Eeyore lonely.

Later on, Eeyore had become a jack of all trades. He found work where he could, in stores, once or twice in the Ministry, and for a few months as a servant for the Malfoys.

"What? Those gits?"

"They had a cute little boy," Eeyore said calmly. "Of course he was a little spoiled, but so many people are. Anyways, I didn't last long there. I got myself fired for laziness. I bet they don't even remember me."

"I never really liked any of those jobs," he continued. "So when the Ministry started gunning for me, it didn't exactly break my heart to fade into the background. Although I did lose a pretty good position at Zonko's. So I hid out for a while, and then Christopher Robin found me."

"How?" asked Sirius.

But Eeyore refused to give more details, beyond the fact that he'd been taken to the Hundred Acre Wood, and that Christopher Robin was a little boy. Perhaps it wasn't so much that he refused as that he was very uncooperative.

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The next day, in the late morning, an owl swooped down from the sky and landed at the barred window. Sirius, who was a dog at the time, blinked. He shouldn't be getting letters this way while he was in Azkaban. And anyways the owl didn't appear to have any letters.

The owl made a scratchy noise and then said, "Eeyore, is that your grey hide I spot through this inconveniently barred window?"

Sirius gaped.

Eeyore said, "Yes. Hello, Owl. What are you doing here?"

"This is a friend of yours?" asked Sirius frantically. He had to find something that made sense.

"You could address me," said the owl peevishly. He was a brown owl with big yellow eyes and, strangely enough, a pair of glasses. "After all, I am the one you are talking about, correct?"

"Uh, yeah."

The owl nodded approvingly. "Good. Now, what was it you wanted to know about me? I have a very long history, you know, and if I told it all, it could take quite some time. Not," he hastened to reassure Sirius. "That I would mind."

Sirius asked, "As a starter, who are you?"

The owl frowned in thought. "Hm. A person can be so many things, and I am one of the sort that is more than most. I am Owl, I suppose," he said with dignity that made Sirius sure the O in Owl was capitalized.

Eeyore sighed. "I already know your name, Owl. I wouldn't forget a thing like that." He sounded hurt. But then, he usually sounded hurt.

"I was speaking to the young gentleman sitting next to you," the Owl sniffed. "He Wanted to Know."

"Oh," said Eeyore. "I should have known," he added glumly. "No one ever wants to talk to me."

"Oh dear me, don't be ridiculous," said Owl. He smoothed a wing feather back impatiently. "I am here for you. I was sent by Christopher Robin to look for you when you went Missing. He was most impatient, interrupted me as a matter of fact."

"I'm sorry to cause trouble," said Eeyore. "Tell Christopher Robin I'll be out in another twenty years, please."

Sirius wondered if Eeyore ever didn't sound pitiful, and whether it was just an act or if he really felt that way.

The owl hmphed, clearly not appreciating being used as messenger, but eventually agreed to it and flew off with an air of importance.

Sirius, who had been watching in bewilderment, asked Eeyore, "Is he from the Hundred Acre Wood too? From when you lived with Christopher Robin and such?"

"Christopher Robin," Eeyore said thoughtfully. He started to recite in a singsong voice. "A donkey named Eeyore is his friend…"

"That's you!" Sirius said.

Eeyore sent him a Look. "It's rude to interrupt."

Sirius, who thought it was rude to go off into singing without explaining yourself or transitioning from subject to subject, merely shrugged.

Eeyore continued, "and Kanga, and little Roo….There's Rabbit, and Piglet and there's Owl…"

"Ah," Sirius said triumphantly. "So he was from there, wasn't he?"

Eeyore ignored him. "…but most of all, Winnie the Pooh. Dun dun dun, Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh, fuzzy little fella all stuffed with fluff. He's Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh, silly willy nilly old bear…"

"Wait," said Sirius, rather lost at his point. "Who is Winnie the Pooh?"

Eeyore finally paid attention. "You don't know who Pooh is?" he said, shocked.

Sirius admitted, almost sheepishly, that he had no idea. The fact that he felt almost ashamed of this fact made him wonder just how much Eeyore had driven him crazy. How was he supposed to know about some random bear? "Is he important?" he asked.

Eeyore snorted dismissively. "Oh no. He's of no account. A Bear of Very Little Brain. But everyone knows him. Even Rabbbit's friends and relations, and goodness knows there are a lot of those."

"Oh." Sirius was starting to wish he had never asked anything to start with. "Of course."

Eeyore nodded, apparently thinking Sirius understood him perfectly, or perhaps not caring. Either way, Sirius was relieved. When Eeyore was silent, he felt a little more comfortable with the universe. Although, he was not feeling very comfortable just now. Not listening to Eeyore anymore, there was nothing to block out the misery of the Dementors outside the cells. He quickly turned into a dog.

He hadn't been using his Animagus form as much since Eeyore arrived, needing to be in his human form to talk to Eeyore. And was it just him, or was the Dementor pressure less than it was before with a companion?

Maybe leeching off Eeyore's happiness reduced the amount they took from him, although he wouldn't have guessed Eeyore had happiness to spare.

Either way, Sirius was glad Eeyore had come. His cellmate was something interesting, something to cling to other than the fact that he was innocent.

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Two days later, Owl returned, looking a bit harried. "Eeyore! Be attentive to my words, young mule," he called down from the window. "A message from Christopher Robin."

Eeyore looked up. "Mhm? And what is it?"

Owl cleared his throat. "Well, he's very distraught, the poor lad. He wants you to return as soon as possible."

"That's the message?"

"No. He said to tell him what Azkaban was like when you came back, but…I thought you should know." The owl readjusted his glasses. "Well then. I'll be on my way. An intellectual like me is in constant demand, and Pooh is expecting me in an hour or two."

As Owl flew away, Eeyore realized he hadn't waited for an answer to the message. Looked like Christopher Robin wasn't the only one who was upset. What a surprise. He hadn't known Owl had cared. Of course, there could be other reasons for his upset, but still…

"Looks like I'll have to be going," he said to Sirius. "Can't have Christopher Robin upset. He's a good friend, unlike some."

Sirius snorted. "Look, you may not get this yet, but this is Azkaban. You can't just tell the guard you're going to leave."

"Hmm," Eeyore pondered. "I suppose not. Very well, I will have to make a Daring Escape, I suppose."

"You can't just escape from Azkaban either," Sirius pointed out.

"Then," Eeyore said. "I will have to come up with a Clever Strategy. Oh, someone's coming."

Eeyore turned back into a human just as Cornelius Fudge came into sight, led by a guard and holding a newspaper. He didn't like to make people uncomfortable, and talking to a donkey can do that to some.

"Erm, yes, well, I'm here for an inspection. Just checking up on you prisoners," Fudge said nervously. He glanced over at them as though not quite sure what to think. Eeyore supposed this was common enough behavior. After all, how did one behave in front of the worst prisoners in the worst prison in the country? Of course, Eeyore wasn't in for such a bad crime (mostly he was in a bad section because the judges were annoyed at him) and Sirius was innocent, but the Minister obviously didn't know that.

"Well, inspect away," said Sirius, clearly annoyed.

Fudge looked them up and down quickly. "Errrrmmmm…"

Eeyore coughed. "I am sorry for my appearance. But with things as they are, there's not much I can do about it. Feel free to sneer."

"Errrrmmmmm…."

"Hey," said Sirius, who was starting to enjoy messing with Fudge, who was somewhat incompetent. "Can I have your newspaper? Being in Azkaban for thirteen years is boring."

Fudge threw the newspaper through the bars and fled.

"He seemed unnerved," Eeyore remarked.

"Usually after about a day in Azkaban, you become a hopeless shell. Dementors can drive you mad very quickly. I have to admit, if I weren't an Animagus, my sanity would be long gone."

"Hmph," said Eeyore. Those dementors could be something of a nuisance, almost as bad as Heffalumps and definitely worse than Woozles.

"Anyways, I get a newspaper. I haven't heard about the outside world in years!" Sirius picked it up, and instantly froze.

"Sirius?" Eeyore hoped the man wasn't having a seizure. Seizures weren't good; they didn't happen in the Hundred Acre Woods, but they did have a tendency to happen in Wizarding Britain.

"It's him."

"What's who?" Eeyore asked.

Sirius didn't respond. He just sat there, staring at the front page of the newspaper as if he'd seen a ghost.

Maybe Sirius didn't want to be friends anymore, and that was why he refused to answer, Eeyore pondered. Well, not like they'd been friends in the first place. But at least for the past few days he had deigned to talk to Eeyore. Eeyore should have known it couldn't last.

"It's Peter," Sirius sneered at last. "Little Peter Pettigrew. I wondered where he'd disappeared to."

Eeyore thought, looking at Sirius's face, that it was easy to see how Sirius had been labeled as a mass murderer. That expression was the kind that gave one nightmares: a look of sheer loathing and contempt.

"Sirius." He just wanted Sirius to look at him, and feel something other than hatred. The way Sirius looked right now scared him.

Sirius didn't look up. "Acting as the pet of some poor kid…Looks like he'll be going to Hogwarts soon…"

Eeyore could tell Sirius wasn't going to listen, so he turned into a donkey and brayed in his face.

Sirius looked up, startled. "Eeyore?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Aahhh…" Sirius showed Eeyore the newspaper. "See that rat? That's the rat that betrayed me and framed me for his crimes. Pansy Pettigrew, who didn't have a single loyal bone in his body."

Eeyore transformed back into a man quickly. You didn't talk about sensitive matters while in donkey form. It just wasn't right.

"Running around free while I'm here in this, this sewer," Sirius muttered. "It isn't right. And," he said, straightening suddenly. "Hanging around a boy like that? That rat's a murderer! It's not safe."

Eeyore nodded solemnly. It was clear Sirius was trying to work things out, so he remained silent.

"No," Sirius declared, suddenly decisive. "I can't leave it like this, Eeyore. We will just have to escape."

Eeyore nodded. "Indeed."

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And so, that night, Eeyore and Sirius held a council on how to escape.

"Do you think you could kick down the door?" Sirius asked hopefully.

Eeyore eyed the door. He raised his back leg and kicked out at the lock. Nothing happened except for the noise of a hoof clanging against a metal door.

"Perhaps with a running start," Sirius suggested.

Eeyore shook his head. "That's a solid door, all right. We aren't going to be breaking that door down."

They had rather expected this, it being the most secure wizard prison in the world, but it was still rather depressing. They had to wait a second to fight off the dementors' influence on their minds-which got worse when they were upset-and then continued.

"There aren't that many ways out of this place," said Sirius. "It's either the door or the window. And I don't think the window's really an option. Too small, too high up."

Eeyore nodded and stared at the door.

"The bars are too thin. If we tried to squeeze out we'd be stuck…" he paused. "Huh. I think I have an idea. Well, that's new."

"What is it?"

"Well," said Eeyore. "Once upon a time, Pooh got stuck in a door too, so I know the solution to this. We just have to starve ourselves until we're skinny enough to fit through the bars in animagus form," he declared proudly.

Sirius groaned. "Aaaaaghhh…We eat little enough as it is."

"Nothing for a week, at least," Eeyore said gloomily. "A nuisance, but it's the Only Way…"

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When the week had passed, Sirius and Eeyore approached the problem again. They both transformed and Sirius went first. For him, it was pretty easy to slip between the bars. He was a Grim, but he was still a skinny, underfed dog.

For Eeyore it was a lot harder. He was a donkey. Donkeys are bigger than dogs. He needed to hold his breath until his chest was through, and then his hind legs got stuck. He wriggled and squirmed until he pushed his way through.

Then, the pair stalked as quietly as possible through the halls. The dementors probably wouldn't try anything they hadn't tried in the past twelve years Sirius had been there, but there were usually a few Aurors stalking around as well, and running into them would not be pleasant. They had a few close calls, but made their way, albeit slowly, through the prison and out.

They had to swim for the mainland. Not very easy when you hadn't eaten for days. Eeyore and Sirius were rather short on energy, and donkeys don't swim that well to begin with.

Still, they got to the shore all right. The problem was, at this point, where to go from there. Sirius was an extremely infamous criminal; if they went around in public, he could be recognized at any moment. Eeyore slightly less so, but still it was a chance they didn't like to take. They finally resorted to going to the nearest Muggle hotel (which took a while to find-would have taken longer if they weren't on the coast) and renting a room for the night. This accomplished, they sat down to talk.

"I think I'll be going back to the Hundred Acre Woods now. Just hope I can find it from here," Eeyore said with a yawn. They'd gotten to the hotel in the early evening, but Eeyore was not one for action, never had been.

Sirius sighed. "I guess so…I mean, I was hoping you could help me."

"What are you planning to do?" Eeyore asked with more interest than he generally showed. He believed he was taking a liking to this man. How rare.

Sirius's eyes narrowed. For him, there was no question. "I'll hunt down Peter Pettigrew. Then I'll kill him."

Eeyore looked at Sirius sharply. "You told me you weren't a killer."

"No. I just told you I was innocent. I haven't killed anyone yet."

"You shouldn't kill anyone now," Eeyore said. "I know it can be tempting, and all, but, but you…you really aren't a killer. Even if that's not what you said."

Sirius buried his face in his hands.

"You could come with me. To the Hundred Acre Woods."

He looked up, slowly. "No. Eeyore, I'm sorry. I have to do this. It's not just revenge, that guy is dangerous. He killed eleven people with one spell. I can't just leave him at Hogwarts."

Eeyore nodded slowly. "All right. I guess it's really none of my business. But just take some time to figure out if this is really what you should do. And, you know, if you rethink it, I could get Christopher Robin to take you in. He likes Animagi, and I bet he'd love your dog form."

Sirius laughed, lightly, in the fake manner of someone who is broken. "It's a Grim."

"It's a big black dog."

"Well, I'll remember your offer," Sirius said. "And thanks." He stood up slowly. "I don't think I really have that many friends left, and I haven't seen any of them in thirteen years, so, you know…It's been good."

Eeyore sniffed. "That prison? It was heinous. Dirty, damp, and all those dementors…"

Sirius laughed, and it sounded a bit more real this time. He wondered whether Eeyore was doing the alliteration on purpose, or if it just happened, like those times he'd started talking in rhythm about the Hundred Acre Woods. He was going to miss Eeyore, and he said as much, a bit awkwardly.

Eeyore shrugged, equally awkward. "Well, if you want me, you'll know where to find me."

"The Hundred Acre Woods. Not that I know where that is."

"It's always easy for a friend to find the way."

They sat in companionable silence for a minute. Then Eeyore stood up, reluctantly (but then, everything he did was reluctant). "I really must be going."

"Now? As in, right now?"

"Christopher Robin is a good boy," Eeyore said. "But very impatient."

"Oh." Sirius drooped a little. "Well, good luck. And I hope I'll see you again."

"Probably will. Things turn out funnily like that, once in a while. Not that I would know; I'm just a donkey. Well, goodbye."

He walked out the hotel door without taking anything with him. Well, it wasn't like they had brought anything with them. Still, it was abrupt. Sirius stared at the door for a moment. Then he headed off to take a shower. He had thirteen years of Azkaban filth on him, and he smelled like a combination of wet donkey and wet dog.


End file.
